Defining Morals
by Vialana
Summary: Trunks/Goten :: Living in higher society is harder than believed. Trunks is starting to find out that society's expectations are hard to live up to, especially if you don't quite fit in with them. DISCONTINUED
1. Smash

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Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z in any way shape or form, nor it's characters which are featured in this fan fiction. Nor do I own the song "Smash" by The Offspring.

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AN: Yea! My first every Trunks/Goten yaoi. There, you have sufficient warning. If you don't like it then bugger off. This will probably be a short saga, but I've learned the hard way that I can't write anything short, so it might be long. You'll probably prefer that anyway. Enough of my blathering. There will be angst, drunkenness, a teensy bit of drug-taking, possible OOC and this chapter is absolutely brimming with drunken teenage angst musing. Personally I don't like that stuff, so I'm a bit annoyed with myself for writing it, but I promise, it will get better. (I might even put in a bit of torture.) Anyway, on with the fic and I hope you enjoy.

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Defining Morals

I was attending yet another one of mother's social functions.

Gods how I hate these people.

My father is a straightforward man. He isn't afraid of anything, especially not this group of pretentious, back-stabbing snobs. They've leant this — the hard way. My father is not one to cross, even with words. You wouldn't think it of him, but he's rather witty. When mother threatened him with, ahem, "couching" if he tried to blow any one up, he decided to use his old training from his days with Frieza to use words to maneuver, insult and threaten his way around high class society.

I'm sure Frieza was a very scary person to banter words with.

Even a bit rusty, my father's scarier. It truly is amazing to see how a single phrase can turn a formerly arrogant gentleman to a blubbering puddle of mush. Even I was astounded at how eloquently my father had phrased that insult. Mother had never liked that fellow, so she was quite smug for the rest of the night. I'm sure father received something far different to "couching" that night.

On second thought, I'd rather not know about something like that.

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Head over heels I've fit in before

Now I don't want to do it no more

There was a reason I could let my mind wander and recall things like that at a time like this — I never had anything to do at these things.

They didn't like me. My so-called "peers". Technically, this is one of mother's functions, but she held it for my benefit.

I had told her it was pointless.

She refused to listen.

And so now I had to sit here, getting pleasantly drunk, while she flattered and smiled charmingly with the parents of my school "friends".

I gave up trying to be one of them a long time ago.

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I've held it all in with blood on my face

Built it up man so bad you can taste

Gods, I really hated this. Why couldn't she see that? She was too busy being who she's always been I suppose. I can't fault her for that. I know for a fact that she doesn't always enjoy these sort of things. So why does she put me though it?

I never wanted this. She said that it would be for my own good. I disagreed. My father was on my side surprisingly, but when mother makes her mind up, she brooks no arguments.

So instead of waiting a year before entering high school and enrolling in the public system like I had wanted, I was sent here. Snob Central.

For two years I've put up with them and now I was too sick of it to care what they thought. They were worse than their parents.

I had to chuckle before taking another sip of a rater nice vintage of wine. If only they knew the truth about me.

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I don't slag no one

I don't even judge

Don't give a shit 'cause I'm not gonna budge

I could see my father look at me from across the room.

He looked sympathetic, to me at least. I don't think many others would be able to discern any emotions my father showed. He knew I hadn't wanted this. I don't think he really wanted this either, but my mother ruled the house, not him. Even he's not stupid enough to cross my mother when she wants something. I'm sure he would have come over and sat with me, laughing and making fun of various people in the room. Together we would have endured the situation better than we were now. But mother had a tight grasp on him, knowing she probably couldn't trust him alone.

No reason why she should.

Last time we came to one of these things, mother left him alone for a few minutes, _at most_, and he spiked the drinks with one of his own brews of something. Needless to say the party ended rather quickly after that. Who would have thought it? My father, a practical joker. Yes, even _he_ has a sense of humour. One would definitely need one at these sort of things.

I could feel him watching me for a bit, concerned, before he turned back. I smiled. He does care, he doesn't show it often or well, but he does care. I'm glad for that. Without his silent support I'm not sure I could get through all this.

I don't fit in with them. I'm not one of them. I refuse to be. I have more pride in myself and my honour than they do. Perhaps it's something my father drilled into me, but I have a lot of self-respect and a high standard of morality.

What I see in them, the so-called higher class, sickens me.

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I just want to be who I want to be

Guess that's hard for others to see

I'm not sure if my mother sees it. What they really are. I'd like to think so, but I can't keep deluding myself. She was brought up into this, she's had to deal with the deceptions and the fakes, the back-stabbing and the pretensions all her life. Even my father had lived through this, though he came out of it stronger and not willing to take any of the crap that it posed.

I wish I were that strong.

I would love to break away.

I would love to get free of the dark and the deception, like I was able to when I was younger. My mother thought she was doing me good. I hate to say it, but this was one of the biggest mistakes of her life. I can't stand to be what she wants me to be, I love her to pieces, but I will not betray myself just for an undeserved reputation.

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I'm not a trendy asshole

I do what I want

I do what I feel like

My father's reputation is another thing.

He earned his way to that reputation. He wasn't born into it. He didn't get it through flatteries and deceit. He earned it through blood and honour and sacrifice. 

Mother did too.

But what these people shower on her isn't respect, it's scorn and flattery. They've got their own reasons for sucking up. And I hate it. My mother deserves more respect than that. My father knows this too. The reason my mother had to threaten him at all is because the first time father ever came to one of these things, some big-shot tried to suck-up to him to get in mother's good graces. Father saw right through him and therefore sent him right through a wall.

See, fighters have their own forms of conduct and respect. If you don't like someone, or don't really respect them, you punch them and see what happens. It's straight forward and to the point. No pussyfooting around because you're afraid of what they might say to you.

Hell, insults are what people respect most in a fight. I know father enjoys a good verbal spar while he's fighting. You get more respect being straight forward as a fighter than as one who deceives and hides.

Myself, I enjoy that also. I can't stand girls who flatter and flirt or boys who brag and embellish.

If I tried that, father would send me though a wall.

He likes doing that I've noticed.

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I'm not a trendy asshole

Don't give a fuck if it's good enough for you

'Cause I am alive

I sigh.

I've run out of wine.

Looking up I notice that the bar is crowded with my school peers.

A groan escapes me.

I have to get up and walk over there if I want more mind-numbing depressants. Tell me why again I agreed to this?

"Because your mother thinks it will be good for you. You don't socialise enough according to her."

I look up and there stands the primary older male figure in my life. Did I tell you how much I idolised my father while growing up? I love him even more now as he sits down beside me and offers me a drink.

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Smash is the way you feel all alone

Like an outcast you're out on your own 

Did I also mention how much I love his home brew? It's a Saiyan recipe he rediscovered a while ago on a trip to Hell to see his father. This is the strongest drink imaginable. It puts a human under a table in three seconds flat. A Saiyan takes a lot longer to get drunk.

As could be discerned by the many empty bottles of vintage wine scattered on the table.

"So," I ask conversationally, "what brings you all the way over here to my side of the room?" I take a drink and sigh in pleasure and the lovely taste and the delicious feeling of warmth slowly coursing through my body.

"A father can't spend time with his son?"

I merely raise an eyebrow.

"Fine, your mother sent me. I would have come over before of my own accord, but she was bring too clingy."

"Right." Another sip. I was already slightly drunk, so this was affecting me a bit more than it normally would. Add to that my not eating at all today (a rather strange phenomenon for a Saiyan) and the fact that I'm only a _half_-Saiyan (so I lied a bit earlier), we will soon have on our hands a very sloshed eighteen year old.

"She wants to know what your problem is."

"I don't have a problem." Great, it was going to be one of _those_ talks.

My father just gave me "the look". I squirmed and decided to spill. "I'm sure you probably already picked this up, but I'll tell you for mother's benefit. I don't like these people and I don't care what they think of me, nor do I have a problem with showing it. I don't fit in and I don't want to. This isn't who I want to be and I refuse to be someone I'm not — even for her."

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Smash is the way you deal with your life

Like an outcast you're smashing your strife 

"What about for me?"

"Not even for you." Damn, what did he put in this stuff? I was never normally this talkative, even if I was drunk. I have too many secrets to keep — like my Saiyan heritage — to let my guard down enough even when I was pissed.

Father already knew this.

I glared at him and he smiled knowingly — well, it was a smirk I suppose. "You noticed my addition to the brew."

"Is it in yours too?"

"Do you really think I'm that stupid boy?" He smirked again. "Besides, would you really want me blurting out all my thoughts to you right now? Especially considering you're not going to be home tonight."

I shuddered. That was too much information. "Dad, please, just let me enjoy my drugged alcoholic beverage. I'm in need of a depressant right now."

"That's another side effect of the drug. It counteracts the depressive nature of the alcohol."

"Which means …?"

"You're smart, you figure it out." Great, not only does it make me tell him everything he wants to know, soon I'll be bouncing off the walls rather than moping silently in a corner like I felt like doing. Why did I have to get stuck with the intelligent devious father?

And why did he have to finally develop such a sadistic sense of humour? I know he's laughing at me on the inside. I can tell by that smile. He's evil, I swear. Everyone knows it, they're just deceived by that innocent appearing face.

… I think I'm already smashed.

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Head over heels I've fit in before

Now I don't want to do it no more 

Just because I'll be giggling and energetic later doesn't mean that the depressive effect of the alcohol I've already consumed hasn't kicked in yet. I've still got a bit of time for depression before I get too hyperactive to talk normally.

I turn to look at him and I see the shock in his eyes when he sees the tears. "Dad, I know you'll think I'm weak, but I can't handle it any more. I'm too different from them and I don't fit in — I don't want to fit in. She refuses to see that."

"Then why do you care so much? Don't deny that you do. If you've known for a while that you don't like this type of life then why do you persist with it? Even your mother couldn't stop you if you wanted something different." It's amazing how much he's changed. Sure that didn't sound like the most comforting thing to say to someone in my position, but was _my_ father after all. To get any sort of sympathy is a miracle worth cherishing for the rest of your life.

"I care because she does. Gods, she tries so hard and it doesn't work, but I'm not like them and I refuse to debase myself and become one of them."

He took a swig of his own drink before answering. "You've got too much of me in you boy."

"That's not a bad thing. You have moral and ethical standards. These … people would stoop to any level to get what they wanted. And they would stoop further to get revenge or drag someone down."

"You forget I was once a murderer. Do you feel the same about me?"

"They can't compare to you. It tore you apart being like that, being controlled, having to sink to that level. Guilt isn't something they feel. What's worse is that they can't be punished for it, because ethics and morals aren't laws. I can't stand humans."

He got angry at that statement. "Don't insult your mother's people, or your own for that matter. You're still half-human whether you like it or not. You know darn well that these people are only a small percentage of humans as a whole."

"But they represent everything that humans are soon to become. Doesn't it sicken you to be around them?"

"Not as much as you. Unfortunately, you get used to the taint after a while." He took another drink and sighed. "Boy, you're still growing up, you're trying to find your place when someone like you is an anomaly and can't fit in. You're mother's only trying to do what's best for you."

"I know."

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I just want to be who I want to be

Guess that's hard for others to see 

We sat there drinking for a bit longer until the drugs finally kicked in and my father had to physically restrain me from literally bouncing off the walls.

Later as the amphetamines wore off a bit and I made my way to the hotel where I'd be staying for the night, (as my parents had rather brusquely informed me yesterday they would be kicking me out for the night), I thought over all I'd said and mused earlier.

And I felt as bad as I did before.

I'd still hid something from my father.

Even with the drugs affecting me, I still managed to hide something from him.

And gods, I was ashamed of it.

I was scared of them, not what they thought of me, but of what they could do if they found out my biggest secret.

And I'm not talking about the fact that I'm half-alien or can turn my hair gold and my eyes turquoise or do a silly dance with another guy and become one person.

This is completely different.

See, because there is one person who's opinion I do care about.

It's not my father.

It's not my mother.

He's closer to me than anyone else in the world. Closer than family.

And if they found out what I'd kept hidden from everyone then they could tear him away from me.

And I couldn't live with that.

All I wanted was to be who I wanted to be without any kind of repercussions.

But I guess that isn't possible for someone like me.

So lived in fear of what they could do to me if they found out. So I stayed out of their way, tried not to upset them too much and tried as hard as I could to keep my mouth shut, ignoring what I saw and how disgusted I felt because of it. And I was ashamed of how I acted, but I would continued doing it, because there was always the chance that one of them could find out and tell the world that I was gay.

I wasn't ashamed of that fact.

I didn't care what the world thought.

I cared what my best-friend thought.

I cared what my best-friend, whom I loved with all my heart, would think of me if he ever found out that I was not only gay, but in love with him and had kept it from him.

I cared if he would hate me because of it.

Because Goten was the centre of my world and the only reason I put up with everything in it. And I would not be able live if they took him away from me.


	2. Breathing

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Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z, nor do I own the song "Breathing" by Lifehouse

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AN: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, your comments were very much appreciated and I'll try to take everything you said into consideration. I forgot to mention this is slightly AU as this takes place around the end of DBZ when Goku leaves to train with Uub, but I'm having Goku in my story. Instead of everyone meeting at the World Martial Arts Tournament, they're having a party. Not much of an AU, but I'm picky.

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I'm finding my way back to sanity again

Though I don't really know what I'm gonna do when I get there

I stumbled none to gracefully back into my house the next day at around noon. No one was there to greet me. Unsurprising as everyone usually had things to do. Grandpa was probably tinkering away at something and Grandma would be in feeding her "pets" right about now. Father's probably in the gravity room, Bra should be at Pan's, she's supposed to be staying there for a few days and of course mother has a business to run and more things to do than most of us, so I probably won't see her until tomorrow at the party.

Right, the reunion party's tomorrow. I'm surprised I didn't notice when I walked in. Mother had already started putting up decorations.

Of course the bright colours don't help my headache one jot. I wince as I walk to the kitchen to get a drink and some aspirin. I think she over did it this time round. Everything's so bright I can barely keep my eyes open. And the combinations. Does she even know what the words 'colour coordination' mean? Orange and brown? And fluro pink and aqua-green? Not to mention the way the streamers waver and swirl in the wind is starting to make me woozy.

Wait, there are no windows open in here.

I decide to bypass the fridge and head straight to the sink and empty my sensitive and very queasy stomach.

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Take a breath and hold on tight,

Spin round one more time

And gracefully fall back in the arms of grace.

I wash down the sink and wipe my mouth dry then lean my elbows on the counter and prop my head in my hands. Groaning slightly at the uncomfortable feeling in my abdomen, I decided that I'll stay there for while as I try to calm my upset insides.

Trying to move as little as possible, I eventually reach out to a cabinet just within arms reach and take out a box of headache tablets. I swallow two without water and wait for the effect to kick in and my stomach to settle. Once that happened, I moved slowly toward the lounge room and lowered myself onto the couch, leaning back enough that I could rest quite comfortably without actually lying down, which would not help the pounding in my head at all.

It makes me wonder how often I get like this for such a precise routine can be worked out for a hangover. I lost count of the times a while ago.

I decide to close my eyes — staring intently at the decorations for a while started to make me sick again — and rest a bit. Not too long though, Goten was going to call over and help set things up with me this afternoon.

My breath hitches with the thought.

Goten.

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I am hanging on every word you say

And even if you don't want to speak tonight

That's alright, alright with me

I must have fallen asleep, it's the only way to explain why I feel like I'm being carried in Goten's strong arms up the stairs to my room. Why I was pushed up against his chest so tightly that I could feel those solid muscles outlined against the fabric of his shirt. Why I had only to inhale slightly to breathe in that delicious and desirable scent that is my Goten.

My senses, heightened by the apparent closeness of the object of my desire, were what eventually dragged me into a slightly more conscious state of mind. I felt my heavy eyelids flicker as I tried to look around and see the expected scenery of my living room.

Instead my eyes open to see the top part of a very familiar and _very_ finely chiseled chest. I feel the heat from his body on my cheek that is pressed up tight against that sculpted flesh. My eyes widen and my breath hitches slightly. I'm sure he can feel and hear my heart beating faster. I stiffen slightly and he looks down, a bit surprised.

"Trunks? Are you awake now?" He smiles that dazzling innocent smile of his, so much like his father's but so vastly different at the same time. With that one facial gesture I know everything he's feeling. Relief, concern, delight, excitement and a hint of something deeper, something subtle, something only I recognise and cannot describe. It is the very essence of Goten, what makes him … him. I gaze deeply into those obsidian orbs and try once again, futilely to see that essence again and understand it, but it's only there for that split second, as if he sees me seeking it and hides it.

Every time I see him draw back like that the hurt at the withdrawal pierces right through my heart and inches him slowly away from me again when I finally believe that he's closer to me than ever.

Not that I can really blame him, after all, I have my secret too.

And he can never know.

I value his friendship too much to destroy it like that. Even if he accepted it, there would always be that hesitation between us, a slight awkwardness that was never seen or heard, but instinctively felt.

I was satisfied with his friendship. It was more than I could ever ask for and he gave it freely. There was no need for him to know. He loves me too, he just doesn't have carnal urges he wants to fulfil with me.

… Okay, back up now. This is not the time to be thinking about that.

I blink and once again I am a half-conscious hung-over eighteen-year-old being carried to his room in his best friend's arms.

"Yeah, I 'spose," I reply with a slur and a fuddled gaze.

He grins. "Good, then you can walk." Without warning he drops me on the hard floor outside my room.

"Ow! Goten, what'd you do that for?" I wince and rub my stinging backside. Great, another body-part that's rebelling. I try to get up, but stumble and nearly fall over when I try to raise myself up onto my knees. The world starts to spin and the colours do that swirly thing again. I just know I'm going to black out once more.

"Oh gods, Trunks!" Goten quickly falls to his knees and catches me before my face hits the floor. He looks at me with those wide sorrowful eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't think."

"When's that any different than other times?" I ask, conscious enough to be a little playful.

He glowers at me adorably then smirks. "All right, if you'd rather get into your room on your own."

"No, you go ahead, I don't mind." He laughs and picks me up again after opening the door. He walks quickly to my bed and dumps me on it. Luckily, beds are a lot softer than floors and I didn't hurt my lower regions as much as before.

That probably wasn't the best way to phrase that considering the incarnation of my lustful urges is starting to unlace my boots as I lie comfortably on my bed.

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'Cause I want nothing more than to sit

Outside Heaven's door and listen to you breathing

Is where I want to be

"Trunks?"

"Hm?" I had started to drift off again but his gentle voice brought me back. I sat back up, propped up by my elbows.

"Next time you go to one of those parties, do you think I could tag along?" He looked at me with that innocent and desirable face, such a sad, yet hopeful expression covering it. My heart went out to him in that instant and I swear I felt tears pricking my eyes. He looked like one of those tiny little puppy dogs with the big eyes that you can't help but exclaim over and pick up.

And yet, my blood ran cold when he asked. What would happen if he did go? Would he find out? What about the others? How would they react to him, how would they treat him? Goten was so strong and intelligent, despite what others may think, yet there was a naïveté to him that could be used against him.

They could hurt him.

Like they did me.

I looked at him closely.

I couldn't let that happen, not to my Goten. I would protect him from the deceptions and depravity of what I put up with everyday and he would never have to know the pain of the hurt I live with.

Yet, he was hurting right now. I had excluded him from a part of my life, unknowingly causing him pain even as I thought I protected him from it. He had included me in every aspect of his, but I had not returned such trust. I lowered my head in shame as I realised this.

I could feel his disappointment and hurt as he misinterpreted my gesture. He thought I didn't want him to go. Gods, I would love him to come with me. Those parties were hell for me without any one to talk to, to laugh with, to have fun with. So I made up my mind before he could speak.

"I didn't think you would want to go to one. They're pretty boring. Nothing to do but get drunk."

Goten smiled wryly. "So I noticed." Then he sighed. "Look Trunks, if you think I would embarrass—"

I cut him off, absolutely shocked that he would thin such a thing. "Embarrass me? Goten, you're my best friend, I could never be embarrassed of you. I can't believe I made you think that." I sat up properly and brought my face closer to his. "The reason I never asked is because I never like going to these things, I hate those people. I didn't want you to suffer through that too. Truth be told, I would rather have spent the time with you instead, given the choice. I would love for you to come with me next time, it would help alleviate the boredom."

Goten smiled brightly. "Really? I thought that you said all those things before just to cheer me up and make me feel like I wasn't left out."

I gave him my half-smile, which he hadn't seen since we were kids. "When have I ever lied to you Chibi?" I laid back down and closed my eyes, smiling slightly. I could feel his frown.

"You know last time you called me that I told you I'd get you back if you called me it again."

"You haven't yet, and that was eight years ago."

"I'm just taking pity on your somewhat weakened state. Don't worry, I'll get you back." He resumed taking my boots off and I started to drift off again.

"Chibi?" I ask curiously through a hazy fog of half-sleep. He was starting to remove my clothes.

"Just try to sleep Trunks," he told me as he removed my jacket and started unbuttoning my shirt. "It would be uncomfortable if you slept in this.

I just nod and let him take care of me, his gentle hands gliding softly over my body, relaxing me with their reassuring touch. I was barely conscious when I felt soft lips ghosting over my forehead. "Sleep well, Trunks," he whispered to me and left, letting me slip into a rose tinted unconsciousness filled with dreams of my Goten.

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I am looking past the shadows 

Of my mind into the truth and 

I'm trying to identify 

The voices in my head

God, which one's you?

I regain consciousness feeling very well rested and with no lingering aches and pains anywhere.

Yawning, I head into my en suite to take a shower, noting as I wash my hair, that I need more shampoo. I take a bit of time to make sure my hair is straight and every single strand is in its proper place before wrapping a towel around my lower body and stepping back into my room to grab a change of clothes.

Of course I was not expecting someone to grab at the loose wrapping and rip it away, nor was I ever aware that someone was waiting in my room for that exact instant to take a photograph. The white light blinded me for a second with the intensity of a Solar Flare Attack then I growled ferally, knowing exactly who was behind the prank.

"Goten," I hissed menacingly and took after the cheekily grinning seventeen year old, not caring that I had crossed the threshold of my room and was now running down the hallway in my birthday suit.

It wasn't until I almost ran down my mother that I realised what was happening. "Trunks!" She shrieked indignantly in a way that would turn most men's blood cold with fear. I halted mid-step and turned, pale faced, to look at her dark glowering expression. I didn't need the veins throbbing menacingly on her forehead to tell me she was furious, a son always knows instinctively when he's in for a scolding from his mother. "Get up to your room and put some clothes on now!"

I merely nod. There's no need to get my mother angrier than need be. Of course, before I did trudge back up the stairs I shot a very dark glare towards Goten, who was standing at the other end of the hallway, behind my glowering mother, rolling around on the floor in laughter, my fluffy white towel still in his grasp.

As I change into a set of clothes I smile at the remembered sight of Goten laughing. Gods, how long has it been since I saw him laugh? Too long if I have to ask that question. It's strange how something as simple as seeing your best friend laugh and be happy can brighten your whole day and make everything seem better than it was before. Goten's always done that for me, even without meaning to, his mere presence can calm me like nothing else. Tugging on a pair of boots I think about how long it's been since I've seen him and I halt in my labour.

Two years.

Gods, no wonder why I'm so tense. In the past two years I've barely spoken to, much less _seen_ my best friend. That's a bit scary. I suppose that's why I've been a bit — okay a lot — more depressed than usual.

Descending to the living room, I heard the sound of Goten's cheerful voice travelling up the stairs to echo melodiously in my ears. And I smile. This must be what Heaven sounds like. So I go down to sit and listen to my angel laugh and make everything better.

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Let me feel one more time

What it feels like to feel

And break the calluses off me

One more time

Of course, everything would be all fine and dandy if Goten wasn't laughing at my expense.

With my mother.

And my grandfather.

And my grandmother.

And that little white square of instantly developed photographic paper that emerged out of the bottom of Goten's camera after he took that photo of me just before.

Seeing my approach, they all turn and cannot help but snicker in a way that soon leads to a huge round of laughter. I fold my arms grumpily, slightly annoyed that they're laughing at me. I give my best friend a withering look and fall down onto the couch beside him, trying my hardest to ignore the way he was laughing at me with that gorgeous voice of his that sent delightful shivers of pleasure down my spine. I tried to ignore the way his cheeks flushed ever so slightly as he laughed, making his face glow in happiness. I tried to ignore the way his eyes sparkled with mirth and he held those gentle hands of his up against his soft smiling lips, trying to hold in his giggling, but didn't quite stop the delightful noses coming through.

Eventually though, he turned to me, his mirth subsiding and as I looked him in the eyes I swear I saw a spark of something flicker for a moment in those deep dark eyes before an expression of confusion crossed his features.

"You're wearing that today?"

Now I was the one to look confused. I looked down at my attire. A black pair of tight fitted jeans low on my hips, everyday black boots and an open short sleeved grey shirt. I look up at him again. "Yeah, why?" I ask dismissively and stretch, looking at my watch as it catches my eye. My eyes widen. I only slept for that long? It was four in the afternoon. Goten came around at about two, so that means I only slept for two hours?

I frown. That doesn't seem right. I look up at Goten again and he's staring at me in concern. "Are you all right Trunks?"

"How long did I sleep?" My watch must be wrong. I look at the clock on the mantlepiece. It says four also. I look out the window. It's still day and slowly moving on to sunset. I look at Goten again. He seems really worried by my disorientation.

"Trunks, it's Sunday. You slept for a whole day."

I look at him in astonishment as the doorbell rings. Mother went to answer it as I continue to stare at Goten in amazement. My grandparents get up to greet their guests. And still I stare. The Z fighters start to arrive yet I haven't moved. Goten starts to grow uncomfortable. Now nearly everyone was there and still I couldn't move.

"Trunks, if you don't stop staring at me I'll show everyone my new picture." That snapped me out of it.

"No!" I jump up and land on top of him as I overbalance in my haste. There was another round of laughter at my actions, and to my great dismay, the photograph launched itself out of Goten's hands and landed face-up on the coffee table.

__

I don't want a thing from you

Bet you're tired of me waiting

For the scraps to fall

Off your table to the ground.

Everyone had a good laugh at my expense.

I glowered darkly once more at my best friend. He just grinned at my expression and whispered, "Payback."

I glared. Right, so he finally found a way to get back at me. This won't last though, he knows that. A nickname is a legacy that lives on for a long time, which means Goten has something else up his sleeve. My friend is a devious one, I'm proud to admit, I was the one who taught him.

Right now I'm regretting that I ever did. Now I'll have to be on guard all night.

I think he's learned how to read thoughts too, because he looks at me with such an evil expression on his face that I wonder if he has been possessed by a demon or something. I shudder slightly. Trust me, you never want a Son to look at you with that expression, it's so creepy. If Goku gave me that look I would be pissing my pants. But this was Goten, my best friend.

That made it a thousand times worse.

Everyone's attention was drawn to the stairs as my father entered the room, finished his training and fresh out of the shower. With clothes, unlike me earlier this afternoon. As Goku goes to greet him warmly, making a small, barely discernable, smile emerge on my father's face, I make a note to ask him later what he'd done to me. I watch him closely for a split second, strangely wary of him and furious at him both.

And for that split second, I let my guard down, giving Goten an opportunity to further his revenge upon me.

"Trunksie!" He squeals right in my ear, scaring the shit out of me, and jumps on my lap, hugging me tightly. "Now that you're not so mad, my bishonen, you won't mind me sitting here the rest of the night, will you bishie?" He grinned that innocent smile, but the glint of mischief in his eyes warped that expression into something I didn't particularly like.

I taught my Chibi well it seems. Too well.

I glare at him, not affecting him in the least, and put my free hand to my head, the other being trapped behind Goten, lying very close to … okay, I really have to learn how to control my hormones. Hearing the laughs again I return my attention to my embarrassing predicament and sigh, resigned now to the torture. "Is this 'Pick on Trunks day'?"

Goten grinned. "Nope, this is 'Goten's Revenge Game'."

"Great." I am so in for it. I look pleadingly at my mother as she passes by, but she merely winks and goes to refill Videl's glass. My father glances at my situation with amusement then returns to his talk with Goku — well, they were more standing together than talking, as father isn't much of a talker and Goku was also busy eating at the same time.

Things return to normal and everything dies down after a while. Goten didn't get off my lap all night, but he didn't try anything else either. I'm not sure whether I was pleased or disappointed with that. Eventually, events dwindled to a close, as events usually do and people started to leave. Soon, Goten was the only guest left, but he was staying over. We had organised it before.

I was starting to drift off where I sat on the couch, Goten still clasped tightly to me, but we had shifted around so that we were both comfortable, half lying down. Goten looked to be asleep and I smiled at the adorable image he made as he dozed on my lap.

"Ah, Chibi," I sighed softly.

"Yes, my bishonen?" He inquired with a heavy, yet amused voice. He opened his eyes and looked at me. I smiled, shaking my head at the nickname.

"Nothing."

"Do you mind?"

"What?"

"Me staying here like this? I'm too comfortable to move."

"I don't mind," I answered honestly. Really, I didn't mind. Quiet the opposite in fact. "You're not that heavy, which is amazing considering how much food you inhale everyday."

"Hey." He poked me in the stomach, making me squirm as he hit a sensitive spot. "You're not much better."

I shrug, my eyes slowly drifting closed. "Just don't do that to wake me."

"Sure." There was a pause as we both started to fade further. "Hey Trunks, you know I'd rather be here with you than anywhere else right now."

"Ditto." There was nowhere I wanted to be more than this. This was perfect.

__

I just want to be here now.


	3. Hitchin' a Ride

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Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z, nor do I own the song "Hitchin' a Ride", it belongs to Green Day.

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AN: Contrary to belief, I have not abandoned this fic. Sorry for the long delay, needed a bit more inspiration for this chapter, and I'm still not sure if it's quite up to your expectations, but I hope it is. Also, I lost most of this chapter due to incompetence on my part, so I apologise profusely. 

No major warnings except for angst (duh) and possible OOC-ness. Enjoy.

I wake up to warmth so divine that I debate whether I have even woken up at all. I look to the side of me and see him lying there, slightly on top of me, his body pressed tightly against mine and radiating warmth so fierce that my sudden desire for this sleeping angel sparks and flares up again.

Of course this means that we're going to have to move soon or I'll have a very embarrassing situation on my hands.

I move slightly, not enough to startle him immediately out of his deep sleep, but enough to make his eyelids flutter and for him to emit a soft moan as he curled into me tighter.

_Damn, this is making things worse._ I ponder the situation in my slightly befuddled state for a second. _Fuck it._ I push him off to the ground and get up, heading towards the bathroom.

__

Hey Mister where you headed?

Are you in a hurry?

I need a lift to happy hour

Say oh no.

"Trunks!" I peer over my shoulder to see Goten rubbing a hand against his backside. "What was that for?"

"You wouldn't get up. I'll be in my shower." I turn back around and head up to my room and lock the door this time before I begin the morning bathing ritual.

A few minutes later, I emerge. My hair was smelling freshly washed and feeling light and silky. My skin felt a lot cleaner, and slightly cold due to the decrease in my usual temperature for the water.

I suppose we must all take necessary steps on occasion.

I brush my hair and teeth and pull on a pair of gi pants styled after my fathers. No one would see me, except Goten, so it didn't matter that I was walking around my house with my bare torso exposed and my lower abdomen and legs covered in a skin tight material that only seemed to emphasise the curves in the lower half of my body.

Satisfied with my appearance, my stomach growls and I smile sheepishly as I exit my room. _Guess I forgot about breakfast. I wonder if Goten's staying for long._ There was no doubt that he wouldn't miss breakfast with my family, but I hope that Goten is able to stay for longer. I haven't seen him in such a long time, we have to catch up.

"Morning sweetie," my mother was certainly in a cheery mood this morning as she bustled around with grandmother, heaping food on everyone's plate. Goten and father were already digging in.

"Hey mum, dad, Goten." Dad and Goten just look at me in greeting and return to their food. I grin. Typical Saiyans. I follow their lead and soon all that can be heard around the table is the sound of cutlery hitting plates.

As soon as my hunger is partially satiated, I turn to Goten and ask, "So, are you going to stick around today?"

"Can't. I've got to help Gohan with something."

"That's too bad. Do you want to do something next week then?"

"Sure." Goten rose. "I should be heading off now. Thanks for the meal Bulma."

Mother smiled. "That's okay hun, you know you're welcome any time."

"I'll see you off." Goten looks at me strangely but shrugs it off. We walk to the door where I stand nervously before opening it.

"You okay Trunks?"

"I'm fine." Well, actually I'm not, my insides are churning and I'm getting really flustered just standing here with you and I really wish you wouldn't go. I look up into those deep onyx depths and I feel my resolve crumbling.

"Gods I've missed you Goten." You look surprised at the emotional outburst, but manage to keep it in check.

"I've missed you too Trunks. But we'll see each other next week."

"Yeah." I smile and clap him on the shoulder in a friendly manner. "I'll see you then I guess." I open the door and he steps out with a smile.

"Yeah. Later Trunks." He takes off with a wave and I watch him go until I can no longer see even a speck in the distance. I sigh and close the door then trudge back to the kitchen.

__

Do you break for distilled spirits?

I need a break as well.

The well that inebriates the guilt

1,2. 1,2,3,4.

Later today I find myself, for some bizarre suicidal reason, going to talk with my father.

Notice I said talk, not train.

How is that possible you ask, well simply this: I start my father talking by saying how much I enjoyed our last sparring session. Being two months ago, he will snort in disdain and ask me to cut to the chase or get the hell out of the gravity room. I collect my fatherly advice and use it in whatever way I see fit.

Simple enough.

Of course this time I wasn't here for fatherly advice or because mother sent me to 'bond' with my father. I was here to get answers.

The door opens and I go in, my hands tucked nonchalantly into my jacket pockets, which I donned at my mother insistence. She doesn't seem to grasp the fact that as a half Saiyan, I don't get cold as easily as other humans. He looks up curiously at the intrusion but doesn't stop his workout until he's completed his movements. My father's picky like that.

"What is it Trunks?"

Hmm, it seems I've caught him in a good mood. Or maybe he's still worried … no, he must be in a good mood.

"I wanted to ask you something." So much for the subtle approach.

He raises an eyebrow in inquiry.

"What the fuck did you do to me on Friday night?" I glare at him so coldly I think it stuns him.

"What are you talking about?"

"The drug father, what the fuck was it?" I know I'm getting angry, but I couldn't care less.

"Oh, that." He shrugs and returns to his routine. "A harmless amphetamine designed to target the Saiyan metabolism. Why did you feel slightly sick coming home Saturday?"

"If you call a splitting headache and severe nausea bad enough to make me pass out mild, then yeah, I did feel _slightly_ sick." I can see that he doesn't appreciate the sarcasm, but I couldn't care less.

He looks slightly curious and … wait, was that worry I saw on his face? Okay now I am officially freaked out. As if this wasn't bad enough, I've managed to worry my father even more.

"Did you take anything else?"

"Do I look stupid dad?"

"No I mean anything at all. Headache tablets, sleeping pills?"

I freeze. "Yeah, two headache tablets the next morning."

"Idiot!" He exploded and grabbed me by my jacket. "Do you have no sense at all? I thought they you'd been taught never to touch anything else if you've taken drugs for over forty-eight hours."

I slapped his hands away and glared right back at him. "Well I wouldn't have had that problem if you hadn't done something to me in the first place!"

"I told you about it, you should have been prepared."

"My head was threatening to spilt open. I tend not to recall much when I'm in that sort of condition."

"You should, I thought I'd drilled it into you as a child to ignore pain."

"Well in life threatening situations yeah I try and keep focused, but this was a party." I shake my head disgustedly. "Look, just don't do it to me again dad, I don't like passing out for over a day."

"You said you were sick before you came home though?" Vegeta still looked concerned. "Did you take anything that night?"

"Dad, I told you I'm not stupid." I tried to think back on the night but I couldn't even recall what the hotel room that I stayed in looked like. I frown slightly. That's a new experience. I don't think I can ever recall not remembering something about nights when I got trashed.

Of course if I forgot that I didn't remember anything that's even worse.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I bark back at my father's question.

"Well if all you came here to do was show me how pissed off you are, you've done it."

I look at him. Is there a question in his eyes? No, it must be a trick of the light. I shrug. "Fine, I'll leave." That didn't quite go as I'd hoped. I'm so confused now.

"Trunks."

I turn around, he's staring at me with an unreadable look.

"Is there something else bothering you?"

I debate telling him about everything. I hate lying to anyone, my father especially, but I can't tell him. So I shake my head. "No, there's nothing to tell."

He looks pained and frustrated but in an instant it's gone and replaced by a look of irritation. "In that case, if you're not going to train get out."

"Sure." And here I thought he actually cared.

__

Cold turkey's getting stale, tonight I'm eating crow.

Fermented salmonella poison oak no

There's a drought at the fountain of youth,

Now I'm dehydrating

My tongue is swelling up I say

1,2. 1,2,3,4.

Lethargy has never been my thing, but every so often I really have to just do nothing.

So here I am, lying here on my bed, staring at the white ceiling trying to relax but finding it's completely impossible. However, I've discovered that if you stare long enough at a single patch of white you can actually start to see pictures.

…

Okay now it's official. I am completely insane. I have to do _something_.

I get up and walk over to my desk, intending to do homework. Why? I don't know. It is the holidays after all, but then I've nothing better to do.

Which basically tells you how sad my life has become.

I attempt to do work on some of my assessments, but it's only a short while before I throw my pen down in frustration. I can't concentrate on anything. I'm so angry with my father and what he did to me. My mother is seriously starting to bug me with her ideas for 'improving' me. She's organised yet another party for next week. Luckily, Goten promised he'd come, and besides that's the weekend he said he'd stay with me.

Goten and my situation with him is actually the main thing frustrating me. Gods, I need him so much, I want him so much, but I don't know how he'd react to everything if I told him.

I growl in further frustration. I quickly change my clothes into something less revealing and more commonplace. Then I open my window and go outside, grabbing my wallet as I leave. No one will miss me going, it's almost eleven at night. Even father would be going to bed soon.

I need something to occupy me.

__

Troubled times, you know I cannot lie.

I'm off the wagon and I'm hitchin' a ride.

I don't quite recall how many bars I went to tonight.

I do recall that it was a lot.

However, I should state more accurately that I knew how many bars I went to before I met up with them. That was about a dozen stops. Whoever said that thirteen wasn't an unlucky number was mistaken. I knew I should have quit when I'd finally gotten pleasantly tipsy, but no, I just had to go and try the new vodka mixes at this new classy bar that just opened.

Of course, considering they'd been raving about it at school I should have been aware that it was likely I'd meet up with some of my less desirable peers, but in my defense I'd like to point out again that I was already tipsy.

I should really try and stop making excuses for myself.

"Trunks Brief." I winced as I heard that annoying voice. I turned, knowing whom I'd find.

"Riley Lars. Wow, fancy running into you." Damn, I did not need this fucker screwing up my crawl. Lars was the son of mother's largest business competitor. He's hated me before he even met me. I seemed to get that impression from everyone at school. Most of them were children of business people who were competitors with Capsule Corp. I really couldn't care, but sometimes the superior attitude they had bugged me.

Mostly because, unlike them, I knew I was better than they were.

"Care for a drink with us Brief?"

"No thanks, I think I can manage to find the bar without your help." I started to turn away and moved over to the bar, only to find my way blocked by an expensively clad arm.

"But don't you think it would be more fun if you drank with us?" His greasy smile soured my stomach and I pushed him away.

"I don't think so."

"But I insist." He grabbed me by the arm, surprised I think when he felt my rock-hard muscles underneath. I glared at him, my look as dark as something my father could produce, but somehow it didn't seem to faze him.

He patted me on the back and released my arm.

"Perhaps some other time then."

"Don't count on it." I continue to glare at him as he walks back to his groupies and flatterers. They're either glaring or smirking in my general direction and I recognise most of them.

That little incident completely spoiled my night and I turned disgustedly out of the bar and walked off in search of another so I could rid myself of the incidents.

So here I am now, at my umpteenth bar, slowly drinking myself into oblivion in an attempt to escape them.

My father would hate me right now, they all would, I know. I'm such a coward.

__

There's a drought at the fountain of Youth,

And now I'm dehydrating.

My tongue is swelling up,

I say … Shit!

I don't know the time, I can barely realise that this is indeed my room that I have flown into. Luckily, I left my window open. Having done this many times, I realised after the first few times of breaking the glass when I'm drunk that it doesn't bode well for me to have my parents wake up and see me in this state. So I leave my window open after I fly off earlier.

Yet another habit I've gotten into relating to my drunkenness. I'm seriously starting to wonder if I'm getting too deep and am simply using alcohol as a form of escape.

Right now though, I really couldn't care and I don't have enough strength to think about it. I barely manage to make it over to my bed before I collapse heavily on it.

A flicker of ki alerts me to the fact that my father is still awake.

Shit. He knows about this. I'm so in for a major lecture tomorrow … or today technically. But again, I don't have enough energy to care.

Before I completely loose myself to the oblivion of my drunken state, I think I hear my door open and detect a slight change in the light as my father comes into my room.

I don't think he's done that since I was young, so I know that I'm dreaming, or hallucinating when I hear him slowly making his way across the room to my bed. But then, I can feel the shift in my bed as he lightly perches on my bed beside me and I swear that's a real hand caressing my face so gently. I can't help it, a tear slowly escapes my eye and slides down my cheek. There's just so much wrong and I want him to know, I want him to help, but I know that he'll just hate me for everything.

"Trunks," he whispers and now I know it's not a dream. "Please let me in, I can help you. I worry, your mother does. You've become so distant."

Gods, he sounds so upset. What have I done? Are they really this worried about me? Another tear escapes me and he brushes it gently away.

"I can't even tell you this when you're awake. Some father I am." He snorts derisively and I can sense his distaste with himself. "I know that I could never turn you away, but I don't think you know that. I never had the guts to tell you. Don't push me away Trunks, you'll only hurt yourself more." I felt the bed shift again and his hand gently brush my face again, wiping the tearstains away as he did so.

I heard him walk over to the door and open it before I was able to gather enough courage and energy to rise from my state of semi-consciousness to reply.

"I'm sorry."

I can feel him turn and smile at me. I know he heard me, despite the fact that it was barely a whisper. Then he quietly left and closed the door behind him, allowing me to drift into a more peaceful sleep than was usual for the state I was in.

He really does care, he doesn't show it often, or as blatantly, but I love him for it. Perhaps tomorrow I could tell him, maybe he won't hate me. Maybe he could help me.

Right now though, I really need to sleep.

__

Troubled times, I know I cannot lie

I'm off the wagon and I'm hitchin' a ride.

I feel the warmth of the sun shining brightly on my face and I wake slowly.

Strange, I don't feel groggy or sick as I usually do after a crawl of that proportion. And I don't have a headache. I shrug and smile at my good fortune and go into my bathroom to get ready for this new day.

I jump the stairs two at a time after I'm finished, feeling rather energetic and joyful.

I guess I owe a lot of my good mood to my father. I see him sitting in the kitchen with my mother and grin.

"Good morning mother." I walk over and give her a kiss on the cheek. She smiles at my display of affection. "Good morning father," I greet as I take my seat. He looks up at me with a raised eyebrow, noticing the change in my usual mood.

"Well Trunks, you certainly seem to be in a rather good mood." My mother carried a plate of food over for me.

"I guess I am." I glance over at my father to see him smiling in my direction. Only a small smile, nothing that would make it seem like anything was going on. You wouldn't even notice it if you didn't live with him for your whole life. That brightened my day even more than my mother's happiness at my change and her delicious cooking.

I guess I've been worrying both of them.

"I'm home!" We all turn to the door as we hear the familiar shrill voice echo down the hallway.

"Trunks!" I get up and open my arms and grin as my little sister runs delightedly and jumps into my embrace. "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you too squirt. How was your time staying at Pan's?" I sit back down with her in my arms as my mother passes by, giving her baby daughter a quick kiss on the cheek, and goes to talk to Videl in the hallway. My father had gotten up after giving his precious princess a quick smile and was on his way to the gravity chamber.

She picked up a piece of my bacon and shoved it in her mouth before answering. "It was good. Pan's daddy helped us make a tree house. And then Goten came around and helped us paint it. It was fun and we got to put paint in his hair." She giggled and I grinned at the image of Goten with pink paint in his hair, for I know Bra would have chosen that colour for the house despite any of Pan's protests.

"That must have been fun."

"It was. Where did daddy go? He promised we could train when I got home." She gasped, thinking of something. "You don't think he forgot do you?"

I grinned, knowing that father would never forget something like that. "I don't know. Maybe we'd better go and check just in case he did."

Bra grinned and nodded. "We should."

I got up again and carried her over to the gravity chamber and opened the door.

"What do you think you're doing?"

I grinned at the expression on Vegeta's face. I could tell he was pretending to be angry for Bra's benefit but was in fact enjoying seeing his daughter get riled up.

"Daddy, you promised I could train when I got home."

"Exactly. So why are you still in those clothes?" Bra grinned as she understood why Vegeta was acting like this. "I don't have time for someone who isn't ready to train. Perhaps Trunks would like to train with me instead." I grinned as I saw the amused gleam in his eyes. This was almost like a tradition between the two. I know he loved training with Bra, she was his pride and joy.

Bra squealed. "No! I wanna train! I'll go get changed right now." I laughed as she sped off eagerly up the stairs to her room and looked over at my father who was smiling fondly after her.

"Make sure she doesn't hurt herself in her eagerness."

"Will do." I smile and follow my sister up to her room. She rushes back past me, he training gi already on. I smile and continued on to my room after making sure she didn't fall down the stairs.

I grabbed my clothes from the bathroom to take out to the laundry and frown as I notice something in my jacket pocket. I take out an envelope wondering where I could have gotten it. I open it up and read the letter enclosed and pale. I flick through the other items and stare at them in shock.

I stumble back to the wall and slide down it, my face a mask of horror. I know my hands are trembling and tears are starting to form in my eyes, but I couldn't care. Everything was screwed. I've completely fucked up my life and nothing I or anyone else can do will fix it now.

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AN: I hope you enjoyed that. Hopefully the next chapter will be out sooner than this one was.


	4. The Beautiful People

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Disclaimer: I do not in any way own the series Dragonball Z or any of it's characters featured in this fic. I also do not own the song "The Beautiful People" it belongs to Marilyn Manson.

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Woah, reviews on the first day after I update. Like I said I'm so sorry for the long wait, but this one's out sooner than the last, I think. And Goten's in this chappie more, plus it's long, really long and fun. Yay! Hope you all enjoy.

Oh, also, I'm putting in a WARNING. This is an R-rated fic so please remember that when you approach the R-rated situations and sexually explicit (though hopefully not too graphic) scenes towards the end of the chapter. Do not worry, they are not lemons if that makes you squeamish. Thank you and enjoy.

And the clock strikes seven. Time to begin. 

I walk nervously through my hallway to the large hall that mother had added to the house a few years back. I haven't seen him here yet, which is what's really unnerving me. Where the hell could he be? I really need someone like him around me at a time like this.

"Trunks?" I turn towards the voice, not even bothering to hide my frustrated countenance. Father's standing in one of the side rooms, ready to emerge into the hall to make his grand entrance. "You ready for this?" he asks with a grimace.

"As much as you are I suppose." I know he knows I'm nervous. This is the first one of these stupid balls held here, and the first one that Goten has been invited to attend. "Do you think he'll show up?"

I see his reassuring smile though he tried to hide it. "Goten may be too much like his father at times, but sometimes that's a good thing. I know that neither of them would leave a friend in the lurch."

"So why isn't Goku here to help you with his party?" I smirk at him and turn away before he can blast me through a wall for even suggesting that he and Goku are friends. "Enjoy the party father."

"Impudent scamp," I hear him mutter fondly before I turn once again to the entrance and take a deep breath. I can do this, I've done this so many times before, this time should be no different.

This is it. Very possibly this is the last day of my life.

__

I don't want you, and I don't need you

Don't bother to resist, I'll beat you.

I smile courteously at my guests, greeting them as politely as I can without being overly polite and fake. I swear I had to force myself to stop from hurling quite a few times as I greeted some of mother's guests and I know I had to restrain myself from punching quite a few of them.

After a tedious hour of necessary pleasantries with the upperclassmen associated with my parents, I turn to "my" guests and grimace. This is going to be even worse than greeting their parents.

"Hello Trunks."

I turn around with a fake smile plastered on my face, but anyone who really knew me would have shrunk away in fear at the fury radiating from me in almost visible waves.

"Lars," I mutter.

He grins in an oily manner in my direction. "Now, now, that's no way to be greeting a guest now is it?"

I push my boiling temper back down past the surface and manage a completely false friendly smile. "Riley Lars, how simply wonderful it is to see you here. I'm glad you could take time out from your undoubtedly busy schedule to come to my little get together."

"Much better Trunks. I think we'll make a gentleman out of you yet." I glare so ferociously at him I wonder why he isn't cinders yet. I wonder if I'd be able to channel my ki through my eyes like that. Father told me how Frieza could do that. It would be a rather interesting and useful technique to have.

I hear the giggles and snickers of the other people in my class and I see them begin to move off, my initial humiliation almost over. Only Lars stays. He grins menacingly at me before leaning in slightly.

__

It's not your fault that you're always wrong

The weak ones are there to justify the strong

"I hope you enjoyed my gift last weekend. I found it rather entertaining myself, but I would have loved to have seen your reaction."

He moves behind me, brushing up slightly against my tense back. I can feel his smirk fixed on me, but I stand strong. He will not get to me, I won't let him.

"I'm sure your parents would love to see the pictures, as I'm sure many others would as well."

"You're just lucky that murder is a crime here, otherwise you wouldn't have lasted a second with that threat."

"Tough words for someone who I hold by the balls."

"You have no idea how tough I am Lars."

"Oh, I know what you feel like, but I wonder how you feel when you're not as tough as you pretend to be? I get the feeling that you would be rather, malleable." I hear him lick his lips and I glare at him and he smiles in satisfaction as he finally gets a reaction. "I'll find out who you're hiding from Brief and when I do, you're mine."

__

The beautiful people, the beautiful people

It's all relative to the size of your steeple

I had a feeling he was the one behind my gift last weekend.

I glare at his retreating back thinking about how I would love to instantly combust him with a quick blast of my ki like I did his "gift" that morning. The little bastard does hold me by the balls, literally. I have no idea where he got those pictures, because I don't even know when they were taken. But the way he was tonight … I don't know whether to be frightened or murderous.

So I settle for extremely pissed off and stalk my way over to the bar, not caring about my father's worried look. He's been on my case all week. He noticed the sudden change in me that day. Who wouldn't? going from a happy cheerful normal teenager in one minute to a furious and closed off Saiyan warrior the next isn't something you don't take notice of.

I pitied the poor trees that I took my wrath out on that day.

I glare once more over at the group of teenagers from my school before ordering a large bottle of mother's expensive wine. I didn't care what anyone thought of me, or that I was acting as I usually did at these parties, I just needed some form of escape.

"Trunks." I turn to see my father standing nearby. He's glaring slightly. "You said you wouldn't this time."

"Dad, I know what I said, but things have changed. Goten's not here yet and I'm already too tense. Let me have my alcohol." I growl at him, but he looks unfazed.

"You would let a bunch of weakling like these intimidate you."

"No, it's not —"

"Trunks," he glares darkly at me and I gulp slightly. "You will not embarrass your mother in her own home like this and you will not embarrass me by letting these pathetic earthlings get the better of you. Am I clear?"

I glare back at him. "Yes Father. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go and not be an embarrassment somewhere else."

"And not greet your latest guest?" I look at him quizzically, seeing the slight grin on his features. I look to where he points and my face breaks out into a grin.

"He's here!" Smiling at my father I run towards the other end of the hall and grab my best friend in a hug. "Goten, you made it!"

"No thanks to you," he said grumpily, returning the hug after a short moment of surprise. "You forgot to tell me the time."

I let go of him and scratch my head sheepishly, an unconscious imitation of him. "Sorry about that. I figured you might actually show up real early just in case."

"Well I would have, but Gohan needed me to look after Pan for an hour or two until Videl got home from work while he quickly dashed into the office. He forgot to mention Bra was there too for the night. So after that I had to go and get changed and I realised I was probably late, though I still didn't know the exact time."

"That's cool. You're fashionably late. Besides, you're mother's and my guest, the others can't say a thing." I finally let him go and look at him. I know that my mouth dropped open in surprise but I couldn't care.

"What?" he asks nervously, looking at himself self-consciously. "Isn't my outfit right for the occasion?"

"No," I manage to gasp out. "It's perfect. You look fantastic. I never knew how well you could pull off wearing a suit like this."

Goten blushed at the compliment, looking at me from beneath lowered eyes. "Thanks Trunks." He laughed. "Well, I'm glad that Bra did wreck my other one. Gohan chose it and I thought it made me look kind of stuffy."

I shake my head. "Definitely keep this one." I smile at him again. "You want to go say hi to my parents?"

"Yeah. Then can I meet all your school friends?" My heart felt heavy as he said these words, but I managed a smile and a nervous nod before I pulled him away from the doorway and the scrutiny of a few curious people.

__

You can't see the forest for the trees

And you can't smell your own shit on your knees!

My mother greeted Goten with a huge hug and a warm smile. Then she introduced him to the people she was talking with. Luckily, these were some of the people who actually like mother and were partnered with her in various business ventures. I didn't mind some of them. Actually, one of the older men was full of interesting witty stories for me every time I saw him.

Goten managed to surprise me again with his politeness and charm. I think these people were very impressed with him. We heard them commenting to my mother they wished how the children at my school could be like Goten.

I look over and saw the slight tinge of red to my friend's cheeks and couldn't help but grin. "You're lucky. It's hard to impress those people. You're one of the few outsiders they seem to like."

"I'll take that as a compliment I think."

I grin once again and lead him over to my father, who, for once, wasn't under the watchful eye of my mother. I guess she figured she didn't need to worry about him destroying anything in their own home. He was standing with a few of mother's investors. I could tell by his expression how bored he was and I decided to go and save him.

"Hello father," I said, interrupting one of the droning men. He would have protested, but considering who I was decided against it.

"Trunks," he greets with a small smile. Goten tried to hide a laugh seeing the relief in Vegeta's eyes and I grin at him. "Perhaps you would like to introduce your friend to these men."

I smile at him and nod. "Gentlemen, I'd like you all to meet Son Goten, a close friend of mine since childhood and a very good friend of the family."

Goten bows slightly. "It's a pleasure to meet you all," he announces politely. The men bow and mumble politely back.

"Will you be joining us Trunks?" my father asks with a slight desperation to his voice.

"I must apologise. Goten wished to meet some of my peers and a few other people at the party."

"Of course, and you must oblige him." We both tried to hide our grins at my father's barely suppressed annoyance. "Enjoy the party Goten."

"I'm sure I shall," Goten answered my father, slightly surprised at the civility he managed. The two of us turned away from them and walked over to some of the younger people at the party.

I take a deep breath, bracing myself before putting on a fake smile and walking up to some of my peers.

__

There's no time to discriminate

Hate every motherfucker that's in your way!

"Well, hello again Trunks." Damn, he just had to be closest didn't he. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

I could see Goten looking at me curiously from the corner of my eye. I know that my tension was obvious to him, but I ignored the look and smiled politely. "Riley Lars, I'd like to introduce a good friend of mine, Son Goten."

"Son Goten." I saw his snicker as Goten held out his hand and smile that charming disabling smile of his. "It's a pleasure."

"Indeed," Goten replied, shaking his hand, a slight frown coming to his face.

"Tell, me, how do you know Trunks?"

"I'm an old friend of the family. My father is Ms Brief's oldest friend. We grew up together."

"And your name, it's rather unusual."

Goten looks slightly confused then a bit offended. "My clan name is Son. It's polite to introduce clan first in certain societies."

I couldn't help but grin as Lars looked taken aback by Goten's insinuation that he was being impolite. I imagine this was the first time that anyone, much less one whom Lars would consider 'lower' than himself, had ever corrected his etiquette. Even when insulting someone Lars was the very essence of politeness, which usually added an ironic tone to his barbs, making them even sharper when delivered.

"Of course. Unfortunately, I don't much leave my own society. It's not necessary." Lars was lucky he looked aside to whisper something to one of his groupies then, for Goten looked murderous.

"Chibi," I whispered so softly that only he could hear. He glanced at me in annoyance. "Don't do anything."

"Don't worry Bishie, I know how to deal with people like him." I see his predatory grin and I even manage to forget about his use of that dreaded nickname as I see that smile.

Gods, I've missed that smile.

Guess it's time the Duo of Doom got back into business. It's been a while since we've played, almost three years since something serious has happened. It's simply perfect that Lars would be the first to fall victim to the reunited Duo. 

__

Hey you, what do you see? 

Something beautiful, something free?

Lars returned his attention to us at that moment, a sneer on his face. That was stupid. Goten hates people looking down on him.

"So Goten, what does your father do?"

"He's a martial artist."

"Oh," Lars was taken aback by the honest response.

"Yes, I know," Goten sighs. "Mother is often on his back to do something more productive, but then, she was raised a princess, she'd not used to simply having time to laze around doing nothing. You wouldn't think that, but with so many villages in the mountains to oversee, she's used to being more active than she has been. Though, that's only recently. Father had quite the reputation a little while ago. Things were fairly hectic then."

Lars could only nod, his eyes widening slightly at the revelation that Goten's mother was royalty. A rural family line, but royalty nonetheless..

"Actually," Goten continues, "now that father and his friends are no longer gallivanting around saving the world and other such, my brother has had time to finish his business masters, graduating with honours. He's head of one of Capsule Corp's branches is he not Trunks?"

"Yes, mother invited him and Videl as well, but they said something about other plans."

Goten nods. "Pan's got a special concert on at her school tonight."

"Right, I'd forgotten."

"Your brother and his wife would prefer to go to a stupid children's concert rather than come to one of the most exclusive parties of the social season?" I grin at Lars' disbelieving expression.

"Why not?" I shrug, then I turn to Goten with a smile. "I hear Pan has a central role. Her grandfather wouldn't stop talking about it while he was declining our invitation."

"Yes, Uncle Satan refused to miss his darling granddaughter's star role in the pre-school play." Goten smiles fondly before looking over at something in the distance and looking back at me, both of us seeing, but ignoring the looks on my peers' faces at the revelation that Goten was related to Mr. Satan. "Trunks? Do you think we should go help your father? He looks like he may need it?"

I look over and smile slightly, a glint in my eye. I look back at Goten to see that evil glint in his eyes too. "Indeed we should. It would be terrible of me if I didn't." I bow to Lars and my shocked school peers and gesture for Goten to join me as I walk away. "Enjoy the rest of the party, I'm sure it will be one to remember."

__

Hey you, are you trying to be mean?

You live with apes, man, it's hard to be clean.

Goten and I grin at each other, but as I look back at Lars, my heart freezes at the look in his eyes and I quickly look back away, knowing there will be a sneer on his face.

"So what did you have planned?" I ask Goten to cover up the slight nervousness I knew he picked up on.

He looks at me curiously then shrugs.

"Spiking the punch?" I suggest lamely. Man, we have been away from each other too long if that's the best plan I could come up with.

"Trunks, I would have though that kind of juvenility below you." We turn to see my father had sidled up to us during our conversation. I grin as I saw what was in his hands. "I have a much better idea."

Goten looks at the two of us curiously. "What's that?" he asks my father.

I grin at my best friend's naivete. "Goten," I say in my most persuasive manner, slinging my arm around his shoulders and grabbing one of the bottle from my father. "Perhaps it is time to initiate you into true Saiyan adulthood." I hear my father's choked cough and see Goten's wide eyes at the strange use of phrasing.

I blush slightly as I realise exactly what I said, but I take hope in the fact that Goten didn't recoil in disgust, though that might only be because he understood that I didn't exactly intend how that came out.

"Uh ... dad, you don't mind if I take one?" He shakes his head and smiles at me as I open it and take a short swig. I lick my lips and offer the bottle to Goten. "All Saiyans should try this at least once."

He looks at the bottle suspiciously before taking it. "Alcohol?" I nod and he takes a deep breath. "All right." He takes a small sip, his eyes shut tight waiting for the burning unpleasant taste to hit. Of course the look of surprise on his face was priceless after that. Then seeing the smile of pleasure on his face I quickly took the bottle from him.

"How much have you eaten today?" He just looks at me as though I was crazy and I nod. "Okay fine, stupid question, but still you shouldn't drink too much. It's really effective stuff."

"I noticed. My head's feeling a bit funny already." I look at him curiously then at the bottle and noticed almost half the contents gone. I sigh.

"You didn't leave much for me."

"Or for the rest of the alcohol." Father glares at us, more at me as I finish of the other half of the bottle. "Though, I guess I don't want to kill them I suppose, so a bottle should suffice for the rest of the drinks."

"Do you think mother knows about this?" I glance over in her direction. She looks over at us suspiciously every once in a while.

"I think she might. I'll need your help." I grin and so does Goten. After telling him about the first prank he'd wanted to be in on one of my father's. And he's never let me before so this is definitely something to consider. The major downside was that mother would get royally pissed and severe punishment would follow.

I look at my father who was expecting and answer then over at Goten who was grinning and nodding. Hmm, what to chose? Good boy or bad boy? The decision was so tough but after a grueling session with my conscience I finally decided.

"What do you want us to do?"

__

The worms will live in every host

It's hard to pick which one they eat the most

Father had finally worked out the perfect ratio for human consumption of his brew that, first, wouldn't result in death (he managed that one the first time through pure luck) and second, would only slightly increase the effects of the normal consumption of alcohol. So saying, a person who only has one vodka shot that had been tampered with would only feel slightly fuzzy, something which would wear off within a span of two hours. However a person who has three in the space of an hour of the tampered shots would be very energetic and not in complete control of their motor functions.

The only people who would be seriously affected were those who had many drinks of alcohol, to which, my father should get off with no blame seeing as many people would have seen them drink quite a few various types of alcohol and would assume they had drunk too much. All this new ratio did was lower the alcoholic tolerance level of the humans drinking the spiked drinks, considering they were unknowingly drinking quite a bit more alcohol than they thought.

Goten and I got the hard job, the one with the high risk of capture, the most nerve wreaking and definitely the most technical and the one that needed the highest amount of concentration.

And of course, we were loving it. It was so exciting being in this position again, making trouble, being evil and simply having fun.

Father stood by the back entrance to the kitchen on lookout, something which may have been noticed by other guests, but never commented on to anyone, after all this was his house, Vegeta could do as he wished, no matter how strange it seemed. At least that was what they told themselves, truthfully I knew my father took the job because people were cautious, scared shitless really, of him and didn't want to go up to him and inquire what he was doing, which they may have if I or Goten had been there.

So here we were, in the kitchen, skillfully managing to avoid the worker drones making the food and drinks for the guests. (thank heavens my mother's a genius inventor with robots, else we never would have been able to pull this off) We spiked the open bottles and glasses of wine, whisky, vodka and whatever else we could find with only a small amount: two drops for whisky glasses, one for shot glasses and five for full bottles. This didn't seem like much at first, but when I consider what happened at the last party my father did this at, a few drops per drink sounded fine. Still, by the time we finished, the bottle was almost empty.

We rush outside with huge grins and my father gestures we should go through the back way to get back inside, past the small lab my mother ceded to my father for his brewery. We grab a few more bottles for ourselves as we go past and head back to the lounge room for a drink before braving the crowded hall again.

__

The horrible people, the horrible people

It's as anatomic as the size of your steeple

We were laughing as we walked through the halls of Capsule Corp back to the hall. A few people passed us with strange looks, but I imagine we did look rather funny and rather drunk. I lost count of how many bottles I'd had, which is not a good thing where father's brew was involved. Especially not as I am beginning to see flying purple monkeys in my peripheral vision.

You know, I rather like monkeys, they remind me of Goten when he was younger. Of course, being this sloshed, anything I think of will eventually remind me of Goten. My parents always told me I had something of a one-track mind. But Goten had an innocence to him in those days, he still does in my opinion, that I always envied. The very fact that he was completely not self-conscious acting so carefree and happy when he was younger always made me feel rather wistful. I look over now at him and see the flushed tinge to his cheek and the elated sparkle in his eyes. Not all of that is the doing of my father's brew.

Turning down a corner, my father swears and pushes us back around. 

"What?" I ask rather loudly. He glares at me.

"Your mother's at the other end of the hallway." He peers around the corner. "She looks pissed and she's checking every chamber she comes to. Damn, last time I did this she promised my punishment would be even worse if I was caught again."

"What was your punishment last time?" Goten asks innocently. I just shake my head then turn back to my father.

"Give me the remaining bottles. Go the back way to the gravity chamber and try and burn off some of the alcohol or whatever. Say you got bored or something. If we get caught, I'm sure we can get off with very little punishment."

"We?" Goten looks at me indignantly. "You're dragging me into this?"

"You're already implicated. Besides, I need you to sweet talk mum."

Father looks at me closely. "You're sure?"

"Positive. You're not as drunk as us and with a bit of training you'll be able to burn off the excess alcohol in your system. Isn't that why Saiyans made it? So it could be easily absorbed?"

He smiles at me. "You were paying attention." He looks around. "Hide in one of the rooms and pretend you were getting drunk, you haven't seen each other for a while so you broke into my brewery and grabbed a few dozen bottles. I'm sure your mother will accept that."

"What if she tried a spiked drink and is after you because she recognised it?" We look over at Goten in horror. Neither of us thought of that. He sighs. "Fine, me and Trunks were really drunk and decided to do a repeat of your trick at the last party that Trunks told me about."

I grin. "Good job Goten. Look, if we get in trouble, I promise I'll make it up to you."

"You'd better," he mutters. We take the remaining bottles and walk into the closest room, which just happened to be a bathroom. Unfortunately, just as father was leaving and we were about to close and lock the door, someone approached my father.

"Excuse me, Mr. Vegeta, could you direct me to the rest room?"

My eyes widen at the sound of the voice. It was Lars. Goten looks panicked and I quickly shove him into the shower cubicle as I hear Lars say, before my father could reply, "Don't worry, I found it." He'd seen through the open door to the white porcelain inside.

Luckily for us, there was a dark fogged glass door only on one side of the shower, the side not facing the toilet and vanity. Goten and I were hidden behind a tiled cement wall inside the tiny cubicle.

"Goten," I whisper quickly, "If we get caught, follow my lead okay?" He nods and I hear Lars enter the bathroom and lock the door behind him.

Goten started to giggle hearing the sounds of Lars using the lavatory. I had to clamp a hand over his mouth then pin him to the wall as he started laughing uncontrollably. He was going to give us away if he fell due to laughing so much. I had to concentrate and force the fogginess in my mind away to stop both of us from making a sound.

After short time, we hear the flushing of the toilet and I almost sigh in relief thinking he would be gone soon.

Of course, I was wrong.

What we heard then shocked both of us. I look at Goten, who had stopped laughing, and see his wide eyes and the blush starting to stain his cheeks. I know my eyes were huge and I had to use my other hand to clamp over my own mouth before I could make a sound.

This was one of the most disturbing moments in my life and I thank every god I know that I am presently drunk, so that there may be a future possibility of me forgetting about hearing my arch rival jerk off in my bathroom.

I notice that Goten soon gets over his shock and begins to giggle again. The tickling sensation on my hand isn't doing me any good, and neither is the feeling of him squirming against me. He clings to me in an effort to keep himself upright as he is no longer able to completely stand on his own two feet without falling over from the laughter. This situation just keeps getting worse and I know I'm blushing uncontrollably but I just can't stop. Goten's worse off, I'm the only thing still keeping him up and keeping us from getting found out.

Finally it seemed that Lars was … finished. Goten was still laughing and probably didn't hear something that I did. My face pales hearing it and my hand slips from Goten's mouth in shock and horror, luckily as Lars flushed the toilet again and washed his hands. After he leaves, I wait a few seconds before completely releasing Goten.

He slid to the floor, laughing so hard that tears started rolling down his cheeks.

"Well," I finally say, trying to get my thoughts in order, "that was rather interesting." Goten starts laughing even harder at my comment. "Maybe a bathroom isn't the best place for us to be getting drunk in."

"I ... guess ... not," Goten wheezes between laughs. He shakily gets himself upright again and I help him to stand. "Trunks, are you telling me this is the stuff you've been keeping from me?"

"No, actually, this is the first party where something as interesting as this has happened. I guess it's because you're here. You do have a knack for making things interesting Chibi."

Goten nods, smiling widely, for once not caring about the nickname. He moves towards the door. "Hey, I wonder who he was thinking about?"

I stop and pale hearing these words as Goten opens the door and looks around cautious. "I ... I don' really know. It could be anyone."

Goten shrugs. "I guess so. Do you want to just go back to the lounge room?"

"Sure." We make our way slowly back to the lounge room, hoping to avoid my mother as we walk through the hallways. I pray that Goten doesn't ask me that question again, because I don't think I'll be able to lie to him again. I knew exactly who Lars was thinking about as he relieved himself and it freaked me out.

He was thinking about me.

__

Capitalism has made it this way

Old-fashioned fascism will take it away

I sigh as I stand here by the entrance and try to hold back a yawn.

Mother had eventually found us drinking still in the lounge room. Luckily she hadn't drunk a spiked drink, but she was just looking for us and Vegeta. Our disappearance had worried her and considerably pissed her off. Goten got away with barely a word said against him, but I had to go farewell our guests as they left.

I'd been doing that for over an hour.

Goten had stopped by and talked with me for a while before mother had dragged him away to talk with some of her guests. I wasn't sure who I felt more sorry for, me or him.

I gave up trying to hold it in and yawned, thinking there was no one around. Boy, was I ever wrong.

"Hello, Trunks." I start and look to the side, seeing Lars standing nearby with a few of his cronies. I manage to smile politely, but seeing the strange look in his eyes, I pale slightly, then berate myself for my weakness, glaring at him.

"What do you want Lars?"

He looks innocently at me. "Just to get my coat. My friends and I have decided to leave. Do be a good host and go fetch it for me."

"Of course," I say behind ground teeth. I open the door to the large coatroom in the hall. Unfortunately with the disgust I felt at seeing him, I'd completely forgotten to ask him what it looked like. I turn to ask him that exact question when I hear the door close and lock behind me.

I frown. "What do you think you're doing Lars?"

He grins and steps towards me. "You know Trunks, I think I finally figured out who you're hiding from, which puts me in an even better position that previously."

I sneer at him and turn away. "Right, you go ahead and keep thinking that."

"I wonder what your young friend Goten might think of you if I show him not only the pictures I showed you, but some more taken of a more lascivious nature." He smirks at me and I know I pale slightly. He grins, knowing he has me completely cornered.

"What the hell do you want Lars?"

"You."

My eyes widen in shock at the statement and he sidles up to me, tracing swirling designs on my chest. I recoil in disgust and move my hand to punch him, lightly, I really shouldn't kill him, despite how much I want to, but he smirks again before I can move.

"You lay so much as a finger on me, and I let your parents, your family, your friends and especially that precious young boy out there in on your secrets. How do you think they will react? Do you parents even know you're gay? How about your best friend? Wouldn't it be just traumatic if they shunned you because of this."

I start to shake and I pull away from him, leaning against one of the walls. He smirks and clasps his hands behind his back. "I know you're strong Trunks, I've the bruises to prove it, but even people like you have a weakness, a pressure point. I've found yours."

"You wish," I whisper half-heartedly. He moves up to me again, and I don't have the will to move away again, even as he slides his hands along my chest and down my sides.

"Don't play with me Trunks. Even if you manage to do something to me, I have others involved in this too, others who would love to see you fall."

I snap, my eyes blazing with fury. "Are you telling me this is all some sick little game for your amusement? Breaking me? Forcing me into things ..." I trail off with a gasp and my eyes widen as his hands slide lower.

"Forcing?" He grins, moving against me slightly, increasing the disturbing friction I felt. "I thought you would have remembered just how much I like force."

I make a move to push him away, maybe through the wall into the next room, but I hear the door open and the cronies from outside step in and I realise I can do nothing to him. He smirks and continues his ministrations, to the amusement of the other two in the room and my horror and disgust.

"I really do hold you by the balls now Trunks, I didn't realise how easy it would be to get you to be my lapdog." He leaned in and placed his mouth close to my ear. I tried to pull away, but I was still frozen in shock. "Will you cry for me Trunks?" he whispered gleefully.

That single statement caused an avalanche of fury within me. I was a Saiyan Prince, a warrior, I was being weak, letting a disgustingly depraved human like him to try and control me.

"You'd see me dead first," I whisper back in a harsh voice and shove him away, hard. He lands against the opposite wall, causing a large crack. The two cronies rush over to him in horror. I straighten myself up, making sure all of my clothes are unruffled and completely done up.

As Lars gets up I glare ferociously at him. "You can do what you want Lars, but I am no one's lapdog."

Lars glares right back, wiping blood from the side of his mouth, a result of the impact against the wall. "I will Brief, you'll regret this. Believe me, you'd best pray that you have good friends, because after they see what I have, they may never look at you the same." He gestured to his two cronies and they quickly left the room without a second look.

I slide down the wall, my face a distraught mess.

"Gods, what do I do now?"

__

AN: Hmm, I'm not quite sure about this chapter, but you guys tell me what you thought. At least it's a long one … a very long one.

Laters.


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